When the Dead Walk
"Huah!" The soldiers swords swung in unison down onto a non existent target. Simultaneously they threw their shields up in defense of an attack that was not there. "Hyah!" The battle cries were fierce as their slashes cut open the belly's of ghosts. The shield came next to bash the spirits away into nothingness. The winds moaned as the spirits drifted into the clouds. "Haah! Fifty swords stabbed together to complete the assault... No. Forty-nine swords. Maurice Grecko, the young Commander, watched from the side as he scribbled battle formations and took notes on the soldiers. They drilled here at the edge of camp, the deep voice of Kunlank kept their strikes in rhythm. Except one. Maurice closed his book the moment he saw it. With haste he set his notes aside and marched from the side of the ranks. He moved to the third row and made his way to a man standing near the end. Kunlank ordered a cease and the soldiers stood at attention in an instant. They really were soldiers now. ''Maurice thought as he marched past them. Each man and women was dressed with hard leather under a black surcoat with deep golden inner lining, above mud-caked boots they wore unpolished steel greaves and their wrists were adorned with leather bracers. Some had modified them with a thick patch of leather and string to protect the tops of their hands. The one thing that separated them were the red, faded blotches of dried blood upon their coats; an idea of Maurice's to give them a look of the dead. They truly were an army, one fit to serve a Goddess. ''Except this one. Maurice stood in front of the man and although he had to look up to him the soldier appeared nervous. He sweat profusely and stank of late night pleasures. Maurice had little tolerance these days for drunk fools and felt transformed into a man twice his age. "Soldier." He spoke with a strong commanding tone. "Your strikes are weak today, as they were the day before, your shield hangs low and you look a mess." The soldier began to shake under the pressure of remaining at attention. "Answer for yourself." Maurice demanded. Do not lie to me. The soldier could bear the stress no longer. He fell from attention, dropping his sword and shield so his hands could rest on his knees. He begged and pleaded for pardon but it would not come. "I...my apologies...commander...I can' take it anymore! I need to get off this mountain!" He fell to his knees and began to sob. The other soldiers stood at attention, Kunlank looked on from the front, this was not the first one they had seen break. Maurice could not afford to be gentle, these men and women needed him to be strong, his Goddess needed him strong and he needed them to be the same. They all needed to be strong. And this one is not. Seven help you... Maurice kicked the man square in the jaw and sent him falling backwards. "Have you no dignity!" No one moved, they had seen this before too. Dazed the soldier looked up with blurry eyes, Maurice was on him before he could see fully. The Commander tore the surcoat from the man's back and booted him again in the rear as he tried to crawl away. "Go then!" He yelled with authority as he walked after him, kicking dirt and rocks. "You are released from service, crawl down the mountain with your cowardice!" The soldier scrambled on hands and knees away from the camp. "When we have finished in Gildor I will have you head myself!" Maurice stopped and looked on as he fled. "Grecko, see our current troops tended and prepped for battle within a years time." ''Lidiya's words came into his head as he turned and made his way back to the other soldiers. ''"After a years time make for Lamium and await me there." It had been well over a year and the soldier's had grown nervous that they might never leave the mountain. Maurice and Kunlank had decide to ship a few groups to Lamium undercover in an attempt to gain control of the city from within. Already they had nearly a hundred soldiers masquerading as everything from laborers, servants and soldiers in the city guard. There is even one young man who has managed to talk his way into squiring for a great knight who resides in the city. What happened to the other squire? ''Maurice found himself thinking as he passed the lines of soldiers still at attention. He came back into his senses and returned to commanding. "Any man or woman who does not wish to serve her Lady, Lidiya, may follow if they so choose." He walked in front of them now to drive the point into their heads. "But if you do, you leave like him! On your hands and knees like a beast, because that is what you are! Go then, I bid an ill fate any beast who thinks themselves unfit to serve the Goddess of Death." They made no move. ''Good. "Who do you serve!?" Maurice bellowed at them. "Death!" They bellowed back in unison. "Who is your god!?" "Death!" They beat their swords against their shields. "What will we give our enemies!?" "DEATH!!" They roared together, swords rocked off shields in a clatter. Maurice looked on stern but happy. "Take position!" The soldiers took a battle stance, shield forward, sword at the ready. Maurice turned to Kunlank and gave him a nod as he walked off into the camp. As he walked away Kunlank's deep voice drove them again into drills, drills that could last all day. The camp was growing steadily smaller by the day, whether by the stream of soldiers to Lamuim or the trickle of deserters, only about three hundred remained. Either way soon they would all be gone, Lidiya had sent word, not even a week passed, of her arrival at Brill and intentions to head to Lamium. However she made no mention of Nex or why she chose to go to Brill and not the mountain camp. All she said was, 'Meet soon. The time is nigh when we must finally march to Gildor.' The time is upon us...are we ready? Rest was now was he desired, the anger from the soldier's cowardice had passed. He walked through listening to the camp gossip as he made for his tent. A young soldier talked with his father and brother, all soldiers, by a fire, they spoke of war to come: "...Don' fret my son." The father reassured his noticibly younger son, "I fought off Wither Pirates in 986 at the Bay of Broken Stone, now thos' were Men. ''These Gildorian Pup-Knights 'ull flee like mice before our might...." They shared a laugh and drink but Maurice knew it only half true. Gildor was divided, yes. And maybe they would flee before the might of an 'Army of the Dead' but maybe not. He knew they truly were going to war but a part of him hoped it not so... "Commander Grecko!" A shout from behind drew his attention. A messenger was running with great haste towards him. He arrived breathing heavy and huffed, "Commander....it... it is Gendry, he has returned..." Maurice place a hand on his shoulder, "Catch your breath child." ''Child? I am maybe two years his senior. "Breath easy and then take me to him." --- Grecko and Gendry met and the fumnite was in a hurried state, he urged them to speak in private. Behind him he led a band of Fumnites, all laden with large packs. A few brought many packs of books into Maurice's tent as Gendry told him all he needed. The two men talked long through the day after briefing Kunlank who then set to prepared the camp to moved. They shared the letters each had received from Lidiya and tried to best prepare a plan for when they reunited (while also trying to guess her plan but to no avail). In one month they would be in Lamium, that was certain, there they would await the arrival of their Prophetess. When she came they must be ready to march into Gildor, into a War. War... As the midday sun fell and turned to a failing ball of rouge the camp finished its packing, only bed rolls remained beside heavily packed wagons and horses soon to be burdened by a hard ride. The camp of three hundred (with forty Fumnite healers of Gendry's order) stood ready and waiting for the Commander's orders. He stood in front of them with Kunklank and Gendry at either side. He had shed most of his old Arnish Imperious armor long ago, a stain on his new purpose, yet he still bore the bracer's of his father's father. Now he stood before them, his family bracers accompanied by hard leather and steel greaves with mud-caked boots and a black, blood stained surcoat. A short sword rested on his left hip with an dirk fastened at his waist on the right. He looked as much a Commander as they did an army. The time is upon us...are we ready? War... ''Seven help you...you? Seven help us! ...are we ready? Are we?'' "Rest easy this night, my brothers and sisters in blood." Commander Maurice Grecko prepared to lead. "On the morrow we ride for Lamium..." He looked out to them with pride, the red sunlight lit half their faces and shaded the other, they showed no fear. ...flee like mice before our might... "...and then we make for Gildor and War!" At 'War' he drew his sword which sent red shimmers into the eyes of it's beholders. "What will we bring our foes!?!" The soldiers drew their swords at once and bellowed out loud, "Death!" "Death! Death! Death!" The chant echoed through the mountains for all to hear. Grecko held his sword high and smiled for the first time that day. Next Chapter When the Dead Walk IICategory:Character lore